The Frog Prince
by Kristallisatie
Summary: The best bedtime story for fangirls. A frog who claimed itself as a prince met the Prince of England in the forest, and obviously, they quarreled. Fantasy setting, somewhat historical (poking fun at it).


Once upon a time in the magical British Isles, there lived a king whose sons were all handsome, but the youngest one was so beautiful that everyone praised his handsomeness (except his brows). Near the royal castle in London, there was a great dark wood called Waltham Forest, a beautiful land reserved for royal hunting, and next to the fairest oak tree in the country was an old well, which was almost dried up.

When it came to summer time, the young and fair prince would travel to the mysterious wood in the afternoon and sat by the brink of the cool well, admiring the beauteous scenery created by the Mother Nature. Usually he carried out a light-weighed golden ball, a precious gift from his father, and practised tricks with it for the whole afternoon under tree shade, and that was his favourite midsummer pastime.

The season of autumn approached to the Isles unexpectedly in the early September. As all trees started to shed their leaves off for the next season change, the young prince paid his last visit to the wood with his golden ball. As usual, he practised a few more new tricks with the beautiful ball happily, hoping to impress his father and all brothers and receive wholehearted applause from them. A rare faerie passing through the wood distracted the young prince such that he made an irreversible mistake, the trigger of his and his country's fate - he overkicked the golden ball, and it dropped at the brink of the well and very slowly, it rolled in...

The prince, who cursed softly to himself, walked closer and stared into the well. His golden ball was shiny enough to reflect light during days and nights. But before crawling into the well and picking up his ball back, something in the well shocked him completely such that he temporarily went speechless.

_"Merde! Who did that!?" _

The raucous voice with a ridiculously strong French accent came from the creature who just jumped out with the golden ball from the well. It hit directly at the prince's head, so painful that he collapsed onto the grass, groaning and rubbing his forehead. His hand could feel some slimy liquid on his skin, and he rolled his emerald green eyes around to seek for the impudent attacker.

_"What the bloody hell was that!?" _He cried.

"What? That is what I want to know, what are those _'ideous things on your forehead_, above your eyes!" The creature held the ball tightly and looked horrified at the young prince. "Also apologise for throwing this at my 'ead!"

Wiping the disgusting liquid away, he stood up and realised it was an ugly frog who just hit his hand.

"I refuse to apologise - who would I spend my precious time throwing the ball at worthless creatures like you," he scrutinised it from head to bottom superciliously with arms akimbo, then walked closer and glared at the ugly frog, "the ball just dropped into the well, not my fault. Now, give me the ball back."

In the prince's perspective, the frog gasped melodramatically for his insults. "I am a beautiful prince! But a evil witch cursed me for no real reason! _Mon Dieu_! I **_only_** watched 'er bath, she was quite young et beautiful, but very vile."

He paused for a while, pondering over something. "Also no, you're not getting your ball back, I like it. Reminds me of 'ow beautiful I was. Per'aps if you_ shave your eyebrows_ I'll think about returning it to you in exchange for a kiss."

_Lechery_ was the first word popped out of his head. "Nonsense! Nor the dwarves and the faeries would believe your story! Even if that is true, you salacious frog deserve it." He laughed pitilessly and continued with a satirical tone.

"Greetings, the Frog Prince. I apologise for my limited imagination to visualise your beauty. And you are obliged to give the ball back to me for I am also a prince, more beautiful than you are _(for now)_."

The frog snorted, something very difficult for it to do, yet at the same time it was also surprised and delighted to find a person with royal blood. "I don't feel any need to give this back to you. You see, I can use this to get back to my normal self. Something about a kiss from a princess, et princesses like getting presents." Before indulging in the fantasy of kisses it stared at the prince, thinking.

"You don't 'ave any sisters do you?" The frog asked.

"My brothers are all handsome princes. And with your disgusting appearance, no fair princess would ever grant you a kiss!" The prince also snorted, which was a piece of cake to him.

"Oui, that's why I need the ball _to bribe them_... but you also look _kind of girly _though, if you think away those _ugly caterpillars on your face_. It may fool the curse...et it would save me the trouble of looking for a princess." The frog chuckled and concluded suggestively. "So kiss me et you'll get your ball back."

"Stop insulting my eyebrows, you ignorant and arrogant _FROG_!" He shouted angrily and impatiently, for he wanted his golden ball back so badly.

A dead silence, or the calm before the storm, prevailed in the forest.

"...F-fine! Now, give me the ball back first!" The prince gave up.

"Non." It narrowed its frog eyes. "I don't trust you. You 'ave to kiss me first, then I'll give you that silly golden ball, _you English pig_."

"I don't trust you too. You can just run away with the ball, _you frog of the Frogs_."

"Run away with the ball? I can 'ardly lift this thing, so you don't 'ave to worry about that. I just want a silly little kiss. What is the big deal about that? _Never kissed someone before?_" The frog started teasing the prince, and he blushed instantly.

**"****_THAT'S NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS!_****" **

The prince was so frustrated that he picked up a stone and threw it at the ugly creature. "Who is the one desperately seeking for help? I can always ask the king my father to grant me another ball, but you? Maybe you're really the prince of the Frog. That's way better too - less Frog nobles to deal with."

Dodging the stone, the frog was insulted by what he had just said yet became more worried about itself, because the prince was telling the truth. Being a gloomy frog for over a year, its life was far worse than miserable. By chance he travelled to the British Isles, and on the way to the royal castle it found a dry well to settle for the night. It was desperate to transform itself back, and it would do anything to exchange for a chance.

"Come on mon cher prince, you are my only 'ope of getting out 'ere. Just a petit kiss, nothing more, then you'll get your ball et we'll all be 'appy." Begged the frog.

Although the prince was little surprised at the sudden change of the frog's behaviour, his principles would never allow him to help a 'Frog'.

"...Every part of you is too disgusting to kiss. I refuse. Get lost."

The prince threw a contemptuous glance at the frog and strode back to the castle, at the same time, he started to devise a plan of that would get his ball back.

"Come back 'ere! You spoiled little brat!..." As the as the sound of the prince's footsteps slowly died away, the frog stopped shouting and softly cursed in French to itself, pushing the ball back into the well and jumped after it.

"Who cares, at least I 'ave something nice to look at now."


End file.
